


Bleached Gold

by FoxyWolfMeerkat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Dialogue Light, F/M, Heavy Angst, Mentioned Characters, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Pain, Post-Blight, Suicide, blight sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 05:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13024695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyWolfMeerkat/pseuds/FoxyWolfMeerkat
Summary: He's dying.





	Bleached Gold

It's been... A while since they descended. About two months, if their internal clocks are still right but frankly Kalli doesn't find herself betting on it. Not without the sunlight, excluding Alistair who hasn't looked himself for... a while. She lied to follow him down here. Said that she was hearing it too- It wasn't as though the Warden-Commander didn't know what made up the Calling and she was a very good liar. But lying about nature caught up to her only two weeks in.

Alistair's golden skin was laced with crawling black lines, a slow sickness. She looked the same as she had when they left. The corruption wasn't taking her yet and he knew it. Yelled in her face, eyes filled with tears, because she had more time and she was throwing it all away. And Kalli took it. Stone faced and with dignity because _she had left him before, more than once, and nothing would ever make her do it again._ Not even death. Certainly not darkspawn. He knew it too, deep down. Saying it aloud would only be patronizing.

Sometimes they had to stop while he braced himself against whatever was available, shivering wildly and doubled over. Kalli would run her hand over his back in a lame attempt at soothing the human from his pain. Despite his anger that she'd forced her way to being down here with him, Alistair never seemed ungrateful for the company. Kalli had forced her way beside him more than once in truth. Queen Anora held her throne for three reasons: Most of all, a deep love for Alistair, a deep distaste for stupid shemlen traditions like blood royalty, and least of all because Kalli did genuinely like her. Blood has nothing to do with good leadership- anyone even remotely acquainted with the long late Arl Howe and his monstrous spawn would know.

Three weeks in, roughly, he started coughing up... something. It was black and smelt of rot. He winced whenever he coughed and she winced with him. She could hear the wheezing, the viciousness of the cough tearing up his throat and lungs, the way he gagged and gasped to fresh air after. After some time, hearing Alistair spitting was background noise.

Some time after that, days but she wasn't certain if it was four or six, Alistair raised a hand to brush his hair back from his sweating forehead. He'd been appalled to come away with a fistful of hair. When they finally found a safe place to camp that night, Kalli dutifully took her dagger and shaved him. He wasn't happy about it, but the elf was certain he'd prefer it to pulling all of his own hair out in the long run. Perhaps it was more than a little strange that she also decided to save just a little of the pretty coarse blond hair. She looked, but indeed, he still had enough youth in him that she didn't find any silver hairs in the sea of gold at all. That was less true in his face. Deep laugh lines and crows feet and worry lines too. The sickness stealing all of his color made him look older than any physical features could.

It only got worse. His pretty eyes clouded over as the lines of corruption crawled further up his limbs and face. At first it was just ugly grey filling up his pupils and he'd rub at them a lot. Then it was dark blue and spots like stars contained by washed out brown. Something more than a dead man's eyes. His vision got worse at first- then it got _better_. Particularly in the dark. The pair didn't discuss the revelation much.

More and more, dumber darkspawn outright ignored him unless he attacked them. Kalli was terrified to think she would die first; hardy as she'd become over the years the rogue couldn't take so much attention. Yet they always managed. At Alistair's pleading, Kalli always treated her own wounds. He was getting fewer even though they were steadily putting up a poorer and poorer fight.

The wheezing gradually became less restricted to his coughing fits- which there were fewer of now anyway. They both quickly realized what he sounded like. Alistair made a habit of announcing his presence if he was ever out of her line of sight for more than a few seconds; she nearly killed him once in a tired and confused moment. They didn't talk about any of that either.

They did talk about times past. Good and bad. Other people. Somewhere else in the Deep Roads, Mel had probably had to descend as well. Had he died yet? How had Morrigan taken it? Kieran? Was Zevran still causing hell out there somewhere, did he know where they were? Leliana knew. Alistair ultimately decided to write her. Would Anora _ever_ remarry? Anything was a lighter topic than what was happening to Kalli's Golden Grey Warden.

  


They could only ignore it for so long. Alistair became less and less lucid. Talking about himself distantly, not always remembering things, recognizing her. Getting quieter except for the occasional muttering that Kalli pretended not to hear. Not to understand. He looked gaunt and sick and washed out, growing weaker, not walking right. She had to slow down to make up for his limp.  
He still followed though. Still protected her. Still knew how to use his weapons. Alistair still curled up with her like a needy, hurting puppy during the moments of rest where he couldn't remember her name anymore. ...Still snored, though it was worse now- it was the first thing to make her laugh in so long. Such a silly harmless change.

  


Then came today. It only lasted a minute or two, but he turned on her. No weapons, mercifully, but he _bit_ her, of all things, hard enough to draw blood from her shoulder. Kalli didn't think when she punched him hard enough to send him sprawling. Alistair was a big guy. A big human. But Kalli never held back if she was being restrained.  
She sat with him, numb and horrified, waiting for him to come to. Dagger in hand. In case....

In case.

When Alistair woke up again, he mumbled in confusion as to what happened. Kalli just shook her head. Told him not to worry about it. Enough of Alistair remained to piece together the clues though.  
He heaved the limited contents of his stomach until there was clearly nothing left but the taste of rot and bile in his mouth and on his teeth. Only then could they continue on their way. It didn't take as much convincing as it should have to get him to keep on with her after such an incident.

When they found somewhere to hide and lie down again, Kalli convinced the ailing man to rest on her chest. A full body blanket for her person, and she held him while he listened to her heartbeat and murmured sweeter things than the moment had any right for. She rubbed circles into his back.  
Checking the spaces between ribs.  
He took it as what it had always been before, soothed lamely into sleep. Snoring. Maker bless his soul- he was like the Golden City turned black. Corrupted. Doom brought upon all her world.  
Daggers made for poor Blades of Mercy. Too little, too late. He'd been in agony all this time, burning from the inside out and she had stood by and done nothing. They were too good at being Grey Wardens or something apparently. The stupid darkspawn wouldn't finish what they'd started.  
She pressed the tip between two ribs, squeezing him tightly. No sorry would cover this. Not for him. Not for her. But stopping now would be dooming him to much worse. Possibly her as well. There was no more time to wait for someone else to do a job she could do herself. Kalli had never been that person anyway.

“...I love you too.” His body jerked, but it was over much faster than it'd started. Warmth, not quite warm enough oozing over her belly. She couldn't wait much longer- not-quite-black-dripping dagger yanked out and pulled up to the side of her neck- and she didn't.


End file.
